


There's nothing left to say now

by tobeheard



Category: Dalton Academy Series, Glee
Genre: Ancient Roman AU, Sorry?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeheard/pseuds/tobeheard





	There's nothing left to say now

                                                                           I

Two pairs of sandaled feet hit the dusty ground, feeling a satisfying crunch from the hard earth beneath them, as they stepped out from the temple of Mars. The hot sun was beating down on the backs of the pair of men, who were in reality, just out of their adolescence. The boy on the left, who had begun to kick idly at the ground, wore a sleeveless off white tunic, emphasising his well-tanned skin. He would have worn his toga, however the sweltering Roman heat was just too much to bare, and to be honest, he was rather glad of not being as easily recognisable. That was the issue with theatre performers; they became something of a celebrity in the ordinary Roman society. Luckily for him, when he performed in front of the masses, it was always behind that overly exaggerated mask, thus, despite his toga being the most recognised in the city, no-one truly knew who Julian Larson really was.

Julian looked to his companion, slightly annoyed with having to tilt his head upwards slightly. His companion was moving with a kind of pride, which suggested to Julian that he was extremely smug with the events that had just occurred. Events which could change their entire future, and despite his companions good mood, Julian couldn’t help but feel a little afraid.

You see, Rome was pretty much the centre piece of the world, and in little less than a week, many of the men would be on their way to defend their city from the Carthaginians, and their feared leader named Hannibal. The close friend of the pair, Derek, had already signed up to fight, hoping that he could add more to his already mighty reputation and win the hand of either Casey or Franzi…. To be honest, Derek hadn’t decided yet.

The moment Derek had told them, with the upmost delight in being able to show his allegiance to their city; Julian’s companion had practically jumped at the chance to join too. They’d both tried to persuade Julian of course; serving and even dying for their empire would be a great honour, their names being written down in history. The truth is, Julian knew he wasn’t built for fighting. His friends were both well built, and could kill with a deadly precision (no pun intended). In stark contrast to their physique, Julian was leaner and lithe. It’s true that his flexibility coupled with his far from bulky appearance allowed him to escape from an opponent’s grasp on many occasions, and that with his quick feet; he’s managed to make the final blow in some cases. To Julian at least, all these ‘successes’ of his were hardly of importance, and in more cases than not, him winning the fights, or surviving them even, was purely luck.

Julian was so caught up in his head that he hadn’t even noticed his companion stopping. Now, the thing is, Julian’s companion is extremely well built. He was both tall, sturdy and had extremely well defined muscles. The issue with all of this is that walking straight into a person whose physique could practically equal to that of a brick wall, did not bode well for someone like Julian. Julian would tell this as if he merely stumbled and then kept walking, however in reality, Julian ended up in a rather undignified heap on the floor with a squeak.

Shaking his head slightly to clear his head, Julian looked up only to see his companion kneeling on the ground beside him. His mouth curved into smirk, and green eyes twinkling.  Julian huffed, and ignoring the outstretched palm, he proceeded to get up and continue walking, his companion falling behind.

Eventually they departed from each other’s sides, and Julian continued his journey back to his villa. The sky was growing dark, and he knew that he should hurry; after all, the city of Rome was even more dangerous at night than it was during the day.

                                                                                          II

Dinner went by far too slowly for Julian. He was served by one of the slaves, a tall and slender Greek, that had caught his attention earlier on in the week, and yet now Julian hadn’t even a spare thought for him. His mind was a tangled mess, and he was trying his hardest to decipher it. Not only had both of his friends signed up for the war, but there was news that his father had too, and here he was sitting at the table, being served yet another course, with his mother’s expectant face in front of him. A mother’s greatest duty, she said, was supplying the city with fine young men to fight and die for their empire. Julian only grunted in reply and continued eating. It certainly didn’t help when she bought up Derek, and his plan to woo one (or both) of the girls his eyes where set on. Julian only sighed when she began pressing on the issue further. Fighting for his empire would be a sure way of getting himself a wife, and son. If only she knew.

Sensing that her argument was lost on him, she waved off the next course and got up from the table, telling him to think on it, and do her proud. She left the room, purple cloak swishing behind her, and Julian left at the table.

His head hit the table with a loud thud. _Why couldn’t he be a normal Roman_? Most of the other men of the village and even some of the boys were desperate to fight, to prove their worth, and as a nobleman, Julian should be willing to set an example. He just couldn’t go. It wasn’t like there was something wrong with him physically or anything. It was just that, whenever he even thought of the war, of signing up for it, or his friends about to go into its dark and messy abyss, he went cold. He seemed to freeze in time. The reality of it all is, Julian liked to be in control. That’s why he performed, each action was deliberate and precise, and war was the complete opposite. It was loud, and violent, and you weren’t in charge of your actions… no, you were the puppet. Your strings being pulled every which way, just how your commander wanted you to be, and you never knew whether you were the key player, or the pawn.

No, Julian thought. He wasn’t going to fight, no matter what anyone may say. He was going to stay where he was, continue to perform, care for his residence, and wait for his friends to return. If they return, he thought bitterly. Derek was far more level headed, so Julian had a bit more faith in him returning, however the other one… the one who’s name he dared not speak or otherwise every emotion linked to it would spill out. That one. He was brash, he’d rush into things in half a second, and not plan out the seconds that would follow. He was reckless, had a terrible temper, and a knack for not obeying rules.

And Julian was in love with him.

                                                                                          III

It was the day before the new recruits were to set off for war, and Julian had kept to his word; there wasn’t a single thing that could send him to the war. Some news had started to float around town already, that he wasn’t prepared to fight for Rome, a coward. Julian didn’t care. He just couldn’t. Derek had already thrown him a few worried looks, but Julian just kept moving on; changing the topic, looking away, running off to buy something; anything to keep the subject far away from his ears.

With _that_ day soon approaching, Julian’s mind was more of a mess than it was before. He was clearer on what he wanted for himself, yet whenever he thought of Derek or—, he just felt this feeling of dread in stomach. He wasn’t prepared to lose the both of them…Derek mostly, yes, let’s stick with that idea; he wasn’t prepared to lose Derek.

At the moment, they were currently sitting on the ground beside one of the many statues spotted around the city. Derek on his left, the other one on his right. He took a deep breath, and asked them on whether they _really_ wanted to fight. The answer was almost immediate from them both. Derek launched into a full length discussion on what winning this war could do for him. He could get married to Casey, or Franzi, or them both even, they were all good friends. He would have an even better reputation, and could even reach the level of heroism as Aeneas. Or he could die, Julian thought. He forced himself to give Derek a dazzling smile, and congratulate him on his choice. The other one squinted at him. Of course, he could always see right through him, Julian’s face hardened, he didn’t have to answer him if he didn’t want to.

Julian went to move the conversation onto something different, only to have the other one make a deliberate loud noise, and then ask cockily why he hadn’t been allowed to answer. Julian ground his teeth together, yet waved his hand in a nonchalant action, gesturing for the companion to go on. There was a chuckle from the other one, and whilst running his hand through his blonde hair, he explained why he wanted to fight. He wanted the attention of one particular person. Julian’s stomach dropped. Of course that’s why he wanted to go to war. He wanted that market worker, the one with the pale skin and perfect brown the hair. The one who was courting someone else. Julian felt his walls build back up, and he looked at the blonde, responding curtly.

Despite the fact that the topics of conversation changed so rapidly during the hours that these three noblemen were sat down, Julian could feel the green eyes of the blonde staring at him intently. He swallowed thickly each time he could feel the heat of them burning into his skin. Around 4, Derek left. Never to be seen again, Julian thought dramatically, before turning to the blonde. Julian gave another forced smile, these things seemed to happen more often than not nowadays, and motioned for them to walk, only to have his companion grab his arm tight. Julian tugged at it for a second, only to find that the blonde had no intent to set him free. Julian stopped, and raised an eyebrow. Fighting is probably what he wants, and he’s not getting it from me, Julian thought sending the blonde a smirk. Growling, the companion moved forward so that he forced Julian to end up back flush against the statue behind them.

Looking back on what happened; Julian could see more or less where everything went wrong. It started off with Julian against the statue, the blondes hand still pressed tightly around Julian’s arm, whilst the other was pressed firmly against his shoulder. The blonde was looking at him intently, green eyes so intense that Julian dared not look away. What was his problem, he’d asked. Julian shrugged, the sleeve of his current tunic falling off his left shoulder. The blonde asked again, his voice lower. Julian raised another eyebrow, then tilted his head in mock confusion. The blonde growled lowly, obviously frustrated with Julian’s lack of response. The blonde’s hands opened and closed in their places, holding back from punching clean through the marble statue.

He grabbed part of Julian’s tunic and pulled him away, dragging him towards the insule. A block of buildings where the poor lived, that was so huge it resembled an island. The blonde shoved him back against the wall. There’d be bruises in the morning, Julian thought, wincing slightly, before sending the blonde yet another raised eyebrow. This time the blonde didn’t hesitate to punch the wall. Like that was going to scare Julian. Julian scoffed before trying to move away again. He was pushed back full force, parts of the brickwork flaking away behind him.

The rest of what happened wasn’t pretty. There was arguing, with loud heated voices, scratching and pulling. Why wouldn’t Julian just say what’s wrong, the blonde would ask, and Julian knows what you’re thinking, why wouldn’t he? Honestly? He couldn’t, he’d open his mouth and it would go dry. This wasn’t the _done_ thing. Sure lots of the male soldiers slept with each other when they were away, that wasn’t anything new, and it just wasn’t something that they did in civilisation.

How did Julian respond to the rough treatment he received? He returned it; kicking and hitting all the way, trying to claw his way out. The yelling escalated, the blonde shoving Julian back against the wall several times, only to have Julian eventually scream out that he can’t. He can’t. He can’t can’t can’t. Julian slid downwards, only to have the blonde catch him and hold him up. He can’t. Why can’t you, the blonde asked, all anger gone from his voice now. Genuine concern. Julian repeated the words quietly, like a constant mantra, he can’t he can’t he can’t.

Why, Julian was asked again. This time he answered. You, it’s you, Julian thought, but all he managed to do was make some undignified squeak. The blonde made a disgruntled noise, obviously not understanding. Julian didn’t blame him. Julian took a deep breath and looked the blonde in the eyes. Bright green looking back into brown. Julian tried to convey every feeling into one single look. The blondes breath caught. He knows. Julian turns away again, twisting his arm to get out of the blondes grip. His arm is dropped, he’s free, but at the same time, he feels like he’s still trapped.

Julian starts to walk away, his head down shamefully, hiding away behind his hair. His name is being called behind him. It sounds far away, oh look at that, he’s been walking faster than he intended, oh well. Julian continues. The blood pumping loudly in his ears. He can’t hear the footsteps running behind him. His arm is grabbed again. He’s pulled flush against the blonde’s chest, lifted upwards so that his feet are barely touching the ground. He’s kissed. Ferociously. It’s a battle, one Julian doesn’t mind loosing. They walk backwards, hands grappling at each other, clawing at each other’s backs, sucking marks into each other’s necks. They somehow end up in the blonde’s villa. On his bed; with their tunics, then without. They’re sweating and panting, and scratching and biting.

All Julian can think is, I don’t want you to go.

                                                                                          IV

Of course Julian didn’t get his wish. He woke up stretched across his own bed. How he got there he’d never know. What he does know is that the blonde is gone. Off to fight, with Derek, and Julian is left here in Rome. Sore, achy, tired and alone. Nevertheless, Julian got up, hissing as he went, and got changed. There was no need for a slave to dress him today; he didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He was a fool, and it would never happen again.

He declined his breakfast, and walked to town, only to find it empty. Oh yes, they’re all gone now aren’t they, he thought sadly. He walked to the theatre only to find that none of the other actors had stayed. He moved on to the market, only to have a chorus of old women yell at him, and call him names for not fighting for his country. He walked past the statue from the day before, and only now did he recognise the statue as Pax, goddess of peace. How ironic.

The days moved on, he was prevented from entering areas of the town, he couldn’t go to the market in fear of a mob mowing him down. Soon, he ended up resigning himself to his villa, eternally bored and with nothing else to do. He hadn’t heard from Derek or the other one yet. Not that he expected to hear from the other one, but still. He just wanted to know that they were alive. The worrying was killing him. His tan was losing its golden colour, fading into something dull. His hair was limp, and his eyes looked like the life was dying out of them. He looked sick. And in a sense he was. He was sick of everything happening around him. He was sick of being in love with someone who obviously does not love him back. He was just so sick of everything.

Weeks turned into months and then into a year. Julian had never felt more alone, and there were times in the day when he asked himself, Why not just end it now? But no, he wouldn’t do that to his mother, and he wouldn’t do that to himself.

                                                                                          V

It had been a whole year and a half that Julian was in this sense of, is this really reality, when he heard raised voices and the clashing of weapons coming from the streets. He ran through the courtyard in time to see the Roman men back in their home town, fighting with the Carthagians. The Carthagians… Julian rushed round to have a closer look.

The enemy had managed to launch attack on the actual city of Rome. Houses where burning in the background and there were women and children screaming in fright. It was absolute chaos. Julian picked up the first heavy thing he could find, and then rushed in to help the soldiers defend their home city. He managed to score one massively successful headshot with what turned out to be a broom, and helped one old lady to safety.

To his left, one soldier was being forced down onto their knees by a Carthagian using his own weapon against him. Julian rushed to help. He spun the broom in one hand and managed to sweep the Carthagian’s feet from underneath him. The Carthagian fell on the floor with a heep, Julian keeping him in place with the broom. The soldier stood up, and taking off his helmet, he revealed himself to be Derek. He smirked widely and gestured towards the broom, before picking up his fallen sword and lifting it high above the Carthangian. He swung it down swiftly.

Pulling Julian along, Derek moved along the crowds, swinging his sword in random directions. They ended up about a yard away from the other one. The one who broke Julian’s heart over and over. He was in an intense battle with a man even larger than the blonde, which was quite a feat. Just as the blonde moved over to stab at the Cathagian he was fighting, Julian spotted another creeping through the bushes towards the blonde. They were in a seemingly completely empty space of Rome.

Ignoring Derek’s sudden yelp in shock, Julian darted across the open space, broomstick in hand. The blonde had just made the final and deadly swipe at the Carthagian he was fighting, and stood over the dead body in triumph. Oh no, he wasn’t going to make it. Julian ran faster, yelling at the blonde to turn. When the blonde finally did, all he saw was the Carthagian stalking towards him, dagger jutting out. The blonde prepared to fight only to realise that his weaponry was on the ground with the dead body. The blonde stepped backwards. Julian was in front of him. Then all he saw was red.

Julian fell to the ground. Dagger imbedded in his side. Blood seeping out from the wound. The blonde had grabbed his fallen weapon, and began slashing at the Carthagian with a deadly force. The Carthagian soon fell dead. The blonde fell in front of Julian. His skin now gone pale, dark circles pronounced under his eyes, and blood dripping from his mouth.

‘You’re going to be okay, Jules’ the blonde said, hand pressed tight to Julian’s side.

Julian’s head lulled backwards slightly, he gurgled a little in response.

‘C’mon Jules’ the blonde repeated again as Derek fell against them, helping him to hold Julian up.

‘I love you’ said Julian quietly before his body stilled.

The blonde held Julian tight against him, sobbing and crying.

‘The truth is, I loved you too’ Logan replied at long last.


End file.
